we can chase the dark together
by rengekii
Summary: Even after the Apocalypse, the Winchesters are always in danger. The war in Heaven brews while an ancient dark force torments the Winchesters. Gabriel does what he can to keep them safe, but even he's not strong enough to do it alone.  More info inside
1. Prologue: Anthem of the Angels

**we can chase the dark together**

After the end of the Apocalypse, Gabriel is resurrected by God and is sent back to Earth. Given no orders and no instructions, Gabriel tries to resume his hedonistic lifestyle, but begins to find it distasteful. With no where else to go, he seeks out Dean and looks after the man. With a war brewing in Heaven and a dark force strong enough to pull Sam out of Hell roaming the Earth, Gabriel finds himself drawn back into an ancient conflict that threatens his new charges.

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><p>The first time Gabriel met the Winchesters they were in Nebraska. Gabriel was there on trickster business; a religious zealot had enslaved a reaper and was using it to kill people she considered sinners. It would have been amusing to any other trickster, but Gabriel had spent millenia as his Father's Judgement. A mere human thinking that they knew the will of a god was foolish at best.<p>

Gabriel made a good living dealing with fools.

His plan was simple. During one of these faux healing sessions, he would walk in, break the Coptic cross around the woman's neck, thus freeing the reaper. The reaper would then kill the woman in a horrific and gruesome way in front of everyone. The woman would get her lesson and the audience would get to see how _real_gods work. A win-win in any trickster's book. The preacher was a slight wild card; Gabriel hadn't decided whether or not to kill him or to let him live alone for the remainder of his life. Not that it mattered; the man only had a few months left in him, anyways.

It was a good plan. But Gabriel never got around to enacting it. On his way to the tent where the meetings took place, he caught sight of two interesting looking humans. On the outside they were nothing special. Sure, they were attractive, but Gabriel had met plenty of attractive humans before. It's not a trait that runs rare in humanity, no matter what anyone says. No, it wasn't their looks, but there was something about them that called to him. He was a few yards away and the feeling was strong enough to make him want to run over to them, protect them, touch them...

Gabriel viciously shoved the feelings down. They were vessels. They had to be. The only humans who brought out those feelings were the ones marked by Heaven. Judging by how his Grace was yearning for them, their angels would be powerful. Maybe even powerful enough to see what he really was. _What__I__twisted__myself__into,_Gabriel thought as he watched the vessels warily.

Fuck it. He'd let some other trickster teach the woman a lesson. Gabriel turned away from the vessels and spread his wings. However, instead of launching himself skyward, he stood and stared at the grey sky.

He couldn't sense any other angels around. That meant that the vessels were still unclaimed, but it didn't mean that they weren't being watched or prepped to give themselves over to their angels. But the humans looked young. They might still be free of any angelic influences.

_It__'__s __too __big __of __a __risk, _he told himself. _Leave __before __one __of __them __spots __you __and __ruins __everything._

Gabriel stretched his wings. They weren't corporeal, but he could still feel the rain sliding through his feathers. Despite the slight discomfort, he still couldn't bring himself to fly away.

It wouldn't hurt just to take a quick peek. If there wasn't a Guardian keeping an eye on them, then there wouldn't be any danger. Unless there was an Archangel or Cherubim perched on their broad shoulders, no angel would know what he was, where he was, or, most importantly, what he had been.

Gabriel tucked his wings in and quickly walked through the crowd. He was wrapped in a sight shield, so the two vessels didn't notice him when he reached their side.

They were tall. Really tall. Gabriel stared enviously at their long legs and broad shoulders as his Grace pulsed beneath his human skin. Their angels were lucky S.; plenty of wing room with these two.

The shorter one (he was still at least six feet tall but next to the other one he looked small) was wearing a protective amulet. Gabriel wasn't something it was designed to ward away, but it still made his wings itch. These vessels were hunters then. Interesting.

Other than that, there was nothing outwardly special about him. Pouty lips, spiky hair, green eyes, an arrogant swagger, and...

Gabriel narrowed his eyes and focused on the man's chest. There was something wrong with his heart. No doubt it was from a hunt gone wrong, and it certainly explained why they were here.

The vessels (_hunters_, Gabriel reminded himself firmly) stopped to argue quietly about so-called faith healers and evil and blah blah blah. Gabriel was more interested in the tall hunter rather than their existential talk.

Floppy hair, bright eyes, probably has dimples when he smiles. All in all, an attractive kid. Not as pretty as the other hunter, but he could have his pick of men and women. Gabriel got the feeling that this one wasn't like that. At least not yet. There was an air of innocence around him that was both frustrating and endearing.

Gabriel stuck by them while the shorter one (_Dean_) flirted briefly with a pretty blonde while her mother watched with an air of disapproval. The tall one (_Sam_) subtly guided Dean inside the tent. While Sam pushed Dean towards the front row seats, Gabriel clenched his fists in an attempt to stop himself from touching them.

What he felt for these two wasn't sexual. Not that he would say no to a threesome with these two, but these two inspired feelings of _more _in him. Before, he had only felt that way for Sigyn, Kali, and Angrboða. Now he was feeling the beginnings of _something _for these two hunters.

Or he was feeling all sentimental and protective for their angels.

Gabriel checked again for any other angelic presences. None. Still feeling nervous, Gabriel brushed his Grace against Sam's soul.

_Lucifer._

Gabriel backed up. No. _No. _Not now. Not yet. Judgement day, the Judeo-Christian apocalypse, the end of days... It couldn't be happening already. It couldn't be.

Gabriel's wings began to tremble. This man, no, this _kid_was going to bring about the end of the world? With his big, bright eyes and goofy hair? It would have been funny if Gabriel hadn't recognized the feel of his brother's tainted Grace.

That meant that Mr. Porn Lips was Michael's vessel. Another quick brush of Grace against soul confirmed it. These two would destroy the world and bring about paradise or Hell.

Gabriel didn't want either. He just wanted to be away from the celestial politics, away from Lucifer's cold malice, away from Michael's religious fervor. That's all he ever wanted. But he can't escape it. He should have known that. His freedom had an expiration date from the start.

He could kill them. Here and now. He could utterly destroy these two hunters and prevent the war. He could stop it all. All he would have to do is tear them to pieces, souls and all. Michael would never find all the pieces.

Michael would also never find him. Big brother would know that Gabriel was behind it, but Gabriel had friends in higher, older places than Heaven. Michael and his winged lackeys would never find him.

Gabriel raised his hand and ignored his vessel's pounding heart. He wrapped tendrils of Grace around Sam and Dean, tendrils that would tighten and shred the bodies and souls of these vessels when he snapped his fingers. It would be a quick, painless death. The best he could give them.

The preacher walked up the podium and began to speak. Gabriel felt the bitch begin her dark magic, and the air in the tent chilled as the reaper was summoned. The boys (so hard to think of them as men, despite their age) bickered quietly, familiarly, over what was bullshit and what were miracles.

He can't do it. He can't. Not when all he wanted to do is hide them from his brothers and protect them.

Gabriel gently pulled the Grace tendrils away from them and stepped onto the stage. Healing wasn't his strong suit, and Michael would know it if another Archangel touched his vessel that way. But if a reaper were to take life and give it to Dean, Michael would think that God had arranged for it to happen.

For all his wisdom, Michael was an idiot.

Dean muttered something rude about the preacher, much to the dismay of Sam. That caught the preacher's attention and, in that moment, Gabriel touched the man's mind.

_Heal that one. The one with the spiky hair. He's important, special. A god has plans for him._

Gabriel stepped away from the preacher as Dean sullenly walked up to the stage. He spread his glorious wings and, this time, flew off. The hunters would realize what the woman was doing and take her down. The reaper would still be freed and would take his revenge on the bitch who had chained him. Dean would be healed and Sam would show off those elusive dimples. No matter what way he looked at it, it was a win in Gabriel's book.

Using humans as intermediaries was acceptable trickster behaviour, so no one would question his actions. They might be surprised that he, Loki, would do such a thing, but there are some things that tricksters understand better than most gods. They would rightly assume that something had distracted his attention and took away the devious bloodlust that so many of them had. They just wouldn't know that what had distracted him were two pretty vessels and the threat of Armageddon.

Could he stop it? Maybe. The one to convince would be Sam, Lucifer's chosen. If he could keep that one on the straight and narrow then maybe, just maybe... Gabriel snorted. It was probably too much to hope for. But he would try.

As Gabriel flew away from the Winchesters _(__"__Remember t__his, __my __brothers: __the __vessels __we __are __waiting __for __are __the __Winchesters. __Sam __and __Dean,__" __Michael __had __told __the __lesser __angels,__ "__it __all __ends __with __them.__"__)_, he began to form his plan. It wasn't a quick and dirty plan. This one would take years.

Gods are patient creatures, tricksters especially so. In a year or so, he would introduce himself to the Winchesters. He'd let them think that they had bested him and then he would show himself again. That would be the time to strike. Hopefully he would be able to stop the end. Or at least slow it down.

That was the best he could hope for. All he could do now was weave his plan.


	2. twoward2 the heaven2

**Author****'****s ****Note:** I know I'm, like, months late with this update, but I've been really sick and busy. Better late than never, I guess. :p Also, keeps being a dick about my chapters; it keeps mashing all the bolded and italicized sentences together, and they've made editing these chapters a pain in the ass.

Also, my work in progress titles tend to be things like "what the fuck is this shit" and "why the fuck am I even writing," so I started using the title of whatever song I was listening to. I've decided to just go with it because at least it looks nice.

* * *

><p>"Dying is easy; living's hard." Gabriel can't remember where he first heard that, but whenever the phrase came up he nodded his head sagely and went back to partying. Tricksters don't deal with the obvious, and it was difficult to get more obvious than that. Dying meant Valhalla, Hel, or endless nothingness. Living meant eventually having to watch his brothers turn the world to ash. Living meant caring about people.<p>

But now that he's died and come back, Gabriel decides that he's got a better phrase: "Dying is easy and living is hard. But being resurrected really _fucking __sucks_."

Angels are creatures of light and power, and being stuck inside a tiny human body _hurts_. After two thousand years you adapt, but waking up inside one after (presumably) being free is like agony. His wings (rather, the threads of light and energy that make them) are tangled and struggling to push free. There's nothing he can do but wait it out it.

He chokes back a sob as his wings _finally_ begin to manifest. The threads untangle as they move through his skin, forming the traditional bird wings. With a few cracks and pops, his wings shrink and change to fit comfortably onto his vessel. He turns his head and looks at them. Right now they're pale and bald. In a few days the feathers will grow back. Until then he'll have to avoid flying.

Grateful for the extra space inside his vessel, he concentrates on weaving himself through it. When he's done there will be no separating himself from this body.

Unless someone stabs him with an angelic weapon again.

It takes him a while to spread himself throughout his vessel. After he's done, he spreads his fingers and digs them into the thin carpet. It's a familiar action, but he feels disconnected from his vessel. It's like going back to a video game he hasn't played in a while; he knows the controls, but it'll take a few levels before he can play without glancing down at the controller.

The first level is 'Standing Up'.

Gabriel grits his teeth and mentally presses 'start'.

* * *

><p>It takes five days for him to regain complete control over his vessel. Normally it wouldn't take anywhere near that long, but his vessel was technically dead for at <em>least<em> a few months. Gabriel's surprised that he's managed to adapt this quickly without using the human's memory as a guide. Humans really have no idea just how complex their bodies are.

The hotel room he's in is disgusting, but he won't be here for much longer. After three days of enduring itchy wings, his feathers have finally grown in. He'll need to practice before he's confident, but he's the Messenger. Flying is what he does. He just has one more thing to do before he leaves: talk to his Father.

Gabriel sits on the bed. He can hear the rustling of the bedbugs, the _skritch-skritch _noise that cockroach legs make against the tile floor in the bathroom. He blocks it all out and opens his mind. The colours in the room drain away. The light begins to fade until it's truly black inside. Then the lights appear.

Most are shimmering threads. These he can pull and twist to create illusions or shields or whatever he needs. But others burn bright like stars. They're gods. He doesn't do anything to attract their attention. It won't be long until they realize that he's back, but for now he'd like to stay incognito.

He does take a moment to search for Kali. He finds her quickly; she was never one to hide her presence from others. She's somewhere in Bangladesh. Probably tending to some of her worshippers. Kali can be a force of destruction, yes. But there's a reason they call her the Dark Mother.

Turning his mind away from Kali is hard, but he's not ready to talk to her. Not today.

He thinks back to those early years when everything was okay in Heaven. He remembers the conversations, the jokes, the petty arguments, the screaming matches that shook the very foundation of the Throne Room. He remembers the haiku that his Father was so fond of creating. He remembers the angry look in His eyes when Gabriel disobeyed that final time, remembers the proud look when Gabriel learned how to fly.

He remembers these things and wraps the memories around one thought (_I__'__m __here, __Father. __We __need __to __talk __before __I __leave._) and throws it out into the abyss. It shines like a beacon, drawing the attention of almost every god in the Northern Hemisphere. Including the one he's looking for.

For the first time in two thousand years, Gabriel sees his Father. For reasons best left to Himself, God has appeared in the form of a young girl. With pigtails. And _mary-janes_.

"Uh..."

**Not the reunion you were expecting?**

"Not exactly, no. Are you really possessing her?"

**She's a prophet. I'm just...**

"Breaking her in?" Gabriel wrinkles his nose.

The expression on the girl's face doesn't change, but Gabriel can sense his Father's displeasure as well as the vast amounts of power at His disposal. His wings tremble a little, but Gabriel doesn't hide his disgust.

**You wanted to speak to me, so speak.**

"Why did you bring me back?"

**Because you are needed.**

"What am I needed for?"

**You are the only one who can stop it.**

"Will you cut the vague bullshit out? If I wanted more questions, I'd go consult a fucking magic eight ball."

**I see that the pagans have failed to teach you better manners. You should know by now that are some things that one god does not tell another.**

"I'm not just another god," Gabriel says through gritted teeth. "I'm your _son_."

**You can be one thing, Gabriel. Either you are a son who needs to be told things that will soon become obvious, or you are a god who will figure things out for himself.**

Gabriel closes his eyes. "What happened to Sam and Dean?"

**The Winchesters mean more to you than your own brothers?**

"I already know what happened to them. They're dead or in the Cage. It's pretty obvious."

**You****'****re ****correct .****Michael ****and ****Lucifer ****are ****in ****the ****Cage. ****The ****human ****Adam ****Milligan ****is ****with ****them. **God pauses. Then: **And ****so ****is ****Sam ****Winchester.**

Gabriel doesn't respond. He doesn't even open his eyes. After a long moment, he says, "And Dean?"

**Missing.**

"I guess the wards I made for them held strong," Gabriel says, his voice rough. He swallows and finally opens his eyes. "And what about you? Did you go back to Heaven?"

**No.**

"Why not? They fucking _need _you! Do you think that those winged assholes can support themselves without Michael giving them orders?"

**Do not pick a fight with me due to your grief. I gave you life twice. Do not pay me back with a tantrum.**

"Fuck you. Fuck you, you stupid, selfish bastard. This attitude right here is _exactly _why there are atheists in the world!"

**Gabriel –**

"Oh shut up. First you exile me and then you spend hundreds of years telling Michael that he'll have to kill Lucifer. Then you just up and leave and abandon the ones you call your children."

**And what did you do while your siblings cried out? Nothing. You stayed hidden with the heathens while Michael scoured the Earth looking for you. Keep your hypocritical judgments to yourself.**

The anger drains away. Gabriel exhales shakily. The anger left behind nothing but numbness. "You bastard," he says quietly. "You really don't see the difference do you?" He rubs his face with his hands. The emotion he's been suppressing rises.

He'll be damned before he cries in front of his Father.

"Leave me alone. I'm done talking to you."

**Arrogance. You've fallen so far, Gabriel.**

Gabriel severs the connection. God and the poor girl he's using, disappear. The void closes, and the dingy hotel room returns.

He can feel the tears building. Stubbornly, he holds them back. When his eyes overflow, he bites his lip to keep the sobs inside.

He failed. That's what it all comes down to. He tried to save them and he fucked up monumentally. Sam is dead (_not __dead, __worse __than __dead._) and Dean is... Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck._

"Sam," Gabriel whispers, his hands pressed against his eyes. "Dean, I am so sorry. I never... I should have..."

It's not until sunset that he leaves.

* * *

><p>It takes two weeks for him to muster up the courage to go to the cemetery. At this point, his grief has left him feeling hollow. It's like a hole in his chest. Sometimes it's fine, but then he remembers that Sam is gone and it <em>hurts<em>. It hurts that he'll never get to see Sam smile or laugh or punch someone.

And Dean is just gone. Nobody from Gabriel's side of the tracks has seen him. Gabriel is certain that he can find the hunter, but what do you say to the person you failed to protect? What can you say? _I__'__m __sorry _doesn't even come close.

Gabriel steps through the cemetery gates. The entire area stinks of Hell and burnt feathers. The closer he gets to the first row of graves, the worse it gets. He knows that he's standing in the spot the Cage opened when the malevolent aura hanging around spikes sharply. He does his best to dissipate it, but the evilness will spread and the entire area will gradually start to attract the very worst of humanity and the supernatural. It's only a matter of time before the killing begins.

It's easy to piece together what happened. Sam tried to throw himself into Hell and Lucifer succeeded. The little Thursday angel, the old hunter, and Dean showed up here to stop Michael and Lucifer from fighting. In the resulting scuffle, someone opened the door and four beings fell inside.

Adam must have been Michael's backup plan. Poor kid. Sam mentioned him once. He said that Adam hated John and wanted nothing to do with them. _Well, __what __do __you __expect? _Gabriel had asked Sam. Sam hadn't responded, but the anger in his eyes lessened.

There's nothing he can do for them. He could dive straight into Hell, reach the lowest circle, and press his hands against the side of the Cage and it _still_wouldn't be enough. All he could do down there is listen to those boys scream.

_Grieve and move on. That's the only thing you can do._

Except... Dean. Dean's still alive.

"What am I supposed to do?" Gabriel says out loud. "Track him down and apologize? Tell hm how I tried to stop this for years?"

No. It's better that Dean keeps believing that Gabriel's dead. He's got Castiel and that cranky old hunter. He'll learn how to live without Sam or... or he'll kill himself.

Gabriel just isn't sure which would be worse.


End file.
